


Runaway

by eerian_sadow



Series: Nobilius [7]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Community: hc_bingo, Gen, Running Away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-23
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2019-02-05 21:46:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12803049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eerian_sadow/pseuds/eerian_sadow
Summary: Living with Lord Strikefast of Praxus is trying on a good day and potentially deadly on a bad day. His spouse has had enough.





	Runaway

**Author's Note:**

> For the 2017 round of hurt/comfort bingo on Dreamwidth, filling my "on the run" square.

Goldtouch looked down at his sparklings sadly. They were young, too young, to understand what was going to happen and he hated to leave them behind, but he couldn't bring them with him without enraging their sire and bringing out the whole of the Praxus guard after them. Strikefast might not love any of them, but he was possessive of his heirs and Goldtouch knew that his own life would likely be forfeit if he took them.

The tall mech sighed softly before bending down and pressing a kiss to Bluestreak's helm. Then he moved to the second recharge berth and did the same to little Streetstar. He wanted to say goodbye, but there was no way to ensure that the younglings would keep his leaving a secret long enough for him to get away.

Goldtouch stood back up slowly as his youngest sparkling whimpered and stirred. He slowed his fans and waited, hoping the lessened noise would let the young mech fall back into a deeper recharge.

Streetstar's optics lit up and he looked sleepily up at his carrier with a smile. Goldtouch smiled back, doing his best not to let his sadness show on his face. He watched until the sparkling shuttered his optics and fell back into recharge, then walked briskly out of the room before he could lose his nerve.

He closed the door to their room and scooped up a bag from the floor in the hall. It broke his spark to leave his younglings in Praxus, but he couldn't keep risking his own life day to day by staying with them.

-_-_-_-_-_-

Leaving the palace had been easier than he had expected. The guards had nodded and opened the gates despite the lateness of the day, wished him a good night and simply let Goldtouch go. He didn't know if they understood that he couldn't live with Strikefast any longer, or if they simply understood that he had to get away.

Though, he supposed it didn't matter now that he was wrapped in a dirty cloak and sitting in a dingy bar waiting for a transport to pick him up. Soon he would be in Tarn, where he could change his name and alter his frame, and live a life free of the mech his own creators had arranged a bonding with.

When the transport arrived, he boarded with several other working class mechs. He settled into an uncomfortable seat with a relieved sigh and called up the memory file of that last, sleepy smile from Streetstar. Goldtouch was grateful for that last moment, even if it would break his spark again every time he thought about it.

If any of the other passengers noticed the coolant tracking down his faceplates as he wept silently, they were polite enough not to mention it.

 

-_-_-_-_-_-

When he stepped off the transport in Tarn, Goldtouch found himself staring into his own face as a vidscreen played a news clip about his disappearance. He hadn't thought that Strikefast would realize anything was wrong so quickly, but he had clearly misjudged how much attention his spouse paid to his comings and goings.

He adjusted his cloak and headed into the station proper, hoping to leave without attracting any attention.

"Hey, you!"

Goldtouch's wings flattened against his back in fear and he tried to shrink in on himself as he turned toward the shout. 

"Yeah, you!" A large, heavily armored mech stomped across the station platform to him. "You looking for work, Praxian?"

He hadn't been, but he knew that the large mech had judged him only by the dirty cloak and his stooped posture. He would take the mistake for the boon that it really was, though. He knew that most any noble would never stoop to doing manual labor willingly.

Carefully, keeping his face hidden under the hood of the cloak, Goldtouch nodded. "I am."

"Good. We don't like mechs who don't want to work in Tarn." The stranger gave him a grin that showcased dental plates that had been filed to sharp points. "Come on. You can get started loading the boss' luggage out back."

Hoping he wasn't making a huge mistake, Goldtouch nodded again and followed the large mech.

-_-_-_-_-_-

His days in Tarn passed in a blur of work and exhaustion. His employer never questioned the inclusion of a well-maintained Praxian on his work crew, and he accepted the false name he was given with nothing more than a nod. When his plating cracked from the stress of heavy labor that he had never been built for, Goldtouch was sent to a medic for upgrades without a fuss and his new body was accepted with little more than a few jokes at how much better he looked with real armor on his frame.

Goldtouch transitioned into Harmony, a mech with a name so common he could be from anywhere, with an ease he never expected. He learned to sing the laborer's favorite working songs to go with the name, and became comfortable in his new life in the construction world. For the first time in his life, the former noble felt valuable for something besides his body or his use as a tool to seal an alliance.

Then Strikefast stepped onto the worksite and Harmony felt his carefully built world crumble around him.

He hadn't realized the project was a joint venture between Tarn and Praxus, or he would never have stayed. In the dead of night, Harmony packed his meager belongings into the travel bag he had carried out of Praxus and boarded another transport. 

Polyhex and Perihex did not have good relationships with Praxus. Perhaps he would be safer there.

-_-_-_-_-_-

He looked and felt less out of place when he stepped into the Perihex transport station than he had when he arrived in Tarn. Harmony did not look anything like the missing Goldtouch, and his armor was worn enough not to draw a second glance in a city full of the same kind of laborers he had worked with previously. Even his re-inforced wings only drew a few second glances.

No one attempted to recruit him as he walked across the station this time, but Harmony knew he could find a place here just as well as he had in Tarn.

He stopped just outside the station and asked a mech who was draped artfully across a bench for directions to the employment office. It surprised him slightly to realize that he knew the mech was a prostitute and he no longer had the gut reaction of walking away that had been drummed into him by his creators.

He simply tipped the mech for his efforts to keep him out of trouble with his own employer if he had one, and went on his way.

Harmony wasn't happy, especially since he was starting over again, but he was not miserable for the first time in vorns. He knew he could survive in a world of regular mechs, and he would learn to thrive there as well.

And not even Strikefast would stop him this time.

-_-_-_-_-_-

 

The day he met the pickpocket, Harmony's world changed again.

He had been living in a shelter run by a small cult of Unicron, where they didn't judge him for his lack of devotion to any deity and only required that he take a turn cleaning the wash racks or the floors once per meta-cycle. It wasn't ideal, but it was allowing him to work odd jobs and save up shanix to find a permanent home. He was well maintained and even had the chance for the occasional detailing when one of the shops donated time and supplies.

His fresh polish was likely what attracted the small mech to him. He looked better off than most everyone else on the street, and the pickpocket expected him to be an easy mark.

His wings twitched as the sensors registered the presence of another being, and Harmony grabbed the youngling's wrist as he slid his hand into the former noble's subspace. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Bright violet optics widened in fright as the black and white youngling stared at him. He felt a pang as he realized that Bluestreak would be the same age as this thief. "Please don't call the enforcers!"

Carefully, Harmony extracted the young mech's hand from his subspace and re-sealed the pocket. "I should. But we both know they would lock you away for the rest of your function." 

"Thank you." The young mech tugged his arm, trying to get Harmony to release his wrist.

"No more marks in this neighborhood." The Praxian squeezed the young mech's wrist to enforce his point. "Everyone here is homeless and you're only hurting them to help yourself."

"It ain't like that!" The youngling's face shifted from afraid to angry and he glared up at the Praxian. "I gotta--"

"Jazz."

Harmony and the youngling both turned at the third voice, and the small mech--Jazz, apparently--tried to duck behind the former noble to hide. "Ain't my fault! I don't even know how he caught me!"

"You should not have been practicing on a Praxian." The third mech, a very tall, slender mech painted in all black, stepped out of a doorway and approached them. "Their wings are no more a decoration that a Seeker's. Please forgive my apprentice, good sir. I am afraid he has been absorbing the wrong lessons when I attempt to teach him the business."

Harmony released the young mech's wrist, giving him the chance to run away if his "teacher" turned violent. "There was no harm done. My shanix remains in my possession and no one was injured."

"I am glad to hear it." The black mech smiled. "May I buy you a drink in any case, to smooth the issue over?"

The former noble considered the offer. He knew enough of the criminal world to know that refusing was an insult, but he wasn't sure he wanted his reputation mixed up with any of the major players in Perihex. "You may. However I have a job at the fourth joor that I cannot miss."

"Of course, of course." The black mech beckoned him closer and then rested a hand on his shoulder. "I have to say, though, that I could use a mech with sensors that good in my organization. Are you looking for something more permanent?"

Despite himself, Harmony considered the offer as the black mech spoke.


End file.
